Ethereal
by Crownsless
Summary: Time has a way of changing motives.


Opposites were prone to attracting, and were almost expected to. However, what of the kindred spirits that blended together so seamlessly; so _flawlessly_ that even **they** were initially unaware just how evenly they matched with one another? Such pairings proved to often be subjected to washing away without a second thought and without a trace of any resistance, and why would there be? They weren't aware of how close they could have been. *Could* have been. Unfortunately, could was the coup de grace of the chapter of their lives, a saga cut short by expectations of the world. It was a beautiful tragedy, exposure to separation from someone that *could* have very well changed a life.

Except now, two had changed the rules. Though they did not intend to in the beginning.

He was an enigma. Infamous, hated, loathed, _feared_ by the masses. He brought quantities of despair into an otherwise gentle world, for he was fear itself. The Boogeyman, the Shadow. The Nightmare King. Pitch Black was not a gentle spirit, far from it. Therefore why would he ever feel the need to show a shred of sympathy towards his intruder; a delicate enough woman, whom he had never seen. She was crumbling, inside and out, chest heaving, cheeks flushed and words weak, yet adorned in the attire of royalty. A Queen separated from her throne, and a mere girl with a secret.

Elsa, as he later learned, was gifted with the power of ice and snow. She could create awe inspiring structures of frosted glass and so much more, but her emotions ran deeply, erratically. Because of this, her ability was often only shown in times of worry, frustration. Which he witnessed first hand upon telling her that what she had was a blessing, not a curse.

She harnessed such fire, then. Spoken word amplified and ice shooting from her with a stomp of a heeled foot. Within her he saw a supernova, in which he would be the black hole that followed after. Cold and dark. Ice and shadow. She was _afraid_, afraid of herself and what she could do that would harm others. But what she did not see was how much she could **accomplish**. He longed for an opportunity, and she, to be rid of her fear.

And that is just what he offered.

He promised to show her that there was no need for her to fear, all the while considering just how much fear she could bring if molded correctly. _Queen_ Elsa was in a fragile state, and the mind of _King_ **Pitch Black** worked in convoluted ways.

Little did he expect to _care_. Little did he expect to be brought a certain sense of warmth when she smiled and when she spoke, to find himself enthralled by her every action. To want to truly eliminate her fear, for she did not deserve it. No, Elsa was his pawn no longer. She became a symbol of affection, of concern and adoration, and he was _ashamed_ of himself. He had not loved since his last life, and look at where it got him. Serving eternally as the harbinger of night terrors, with a heart that did not beat. A _monster_ he was, a monster he would forever be. And monsters did not love. _They were not worthy of it_.

So why was he unable to destroy his budding feelings? He valued her time, her company, her very presence. He was becoming attached and it was _sickening_ to him. He was so blinded by his doubts that he hardly caught her long glances, her spontaneous displays of her power just to catch his attention, and the way she spoke softly to him as if he were the only one in her whole entire world.

Because he was. In her eyes he no longer was the unnerving being that she was skeptical of upon accepting his offer. He was as needed by her as she was by him. They lived in a gorgeous state of oblivion for an entire week.

Until they spoke of a different subject one evening outside of his domain, under the moonlight.

"Pitch," she began. Her eyes spoke more than she ever did, and the discovery of this always drew him in. Pitch nodded briefly and with a swift exhale, Elsa continued, "Do... do you remember when I came here, when you told me, if I was willing, I wouldn't have to fear anymore?"

Her query was puzzling, but he had decided to digress. "Yes, if it were not for that, I am almost certain you would have left, your Majesty. However, why do you ask?" And this only brings another breath of air. She appeared nervous, as if what she planned on saying was more difficult than anything else.

"Right, well... I wanted to tell you. I'm... it's gone," her voice drops in volume, whilst he gave a tilt of his head. Catching his confusion, she quickly moves the conversation to elaborate, speaking much faster than intended, "Not the memory! I remember that of course, I- the _fear_, Pitch, the fear is gone, thanks to you. It's gone."

"... It's gone." she says once more. And the repetition is her own realization of what she had said. **The fear was gone**. He promised it would be, and through communication and training of her power, it vanished completely. Through being near him, being _with_ him, it was gone. Her eyes look back up to him, and his expression is one of amazement.

He had done it. He had kept his word and she was no longer afraid. An accomplishment, yes but _what happened now_? Would she leave, now that she was strong? Pride became fear of his own, and it is laced throughout his voice.

"Gone... gone! It is reassuring to finally hear. What happens now, if I may? Do we, part ways?"

It is spoken with as much confidence as he could muster, but he is **afraid**. Pitch _fears_ for what Elsa would say next, and she almost catches it.

"Part ways?" the idea puzzles her. She was still a Queen, and Arendelle had been left without a ruler, but yet...

_They called you a monster. They hated you. They wanted you dead or locked up for eternity._ Her subconscious screams to her, and her jaw nearly drops. Pitch not once told her she was a monster, never told her she had to hide, never showed her any animosity... Pitch had become her **home**. Her place.

How could she ever part with him now?

"Well... parting ways would still have me alone, wouldn't it?"

"But you are not alone now."

Blue pools lock and meld into opposing golden ones, the two taking in the realization. She was not alone here, and so long as she was here, he was not alone either. In each other lied their home, their comfort, and it was a scary discovery. Unknown and unexpected, breathtaking, even. Elsa clears her throat, but to no avail, for when she speaks her tone squeaks thrice before it strengthens, and when Pitch is in the position to respond, his voice is weak as well. Elsa however, spoke frantically as they continued, as if she did not say everything, she would not be able to again.

"I... I know that. You're not alone either, though. You shouldn't be."

"Neither should you."

"I have to thank you. I didn't think you would really help me at the start. I wanted to just run away but then you told me how you related to me and I had faith and-"

"I understand. I had always understood your pain. That is why I told you that when we first encountered one another."

"I... guess I just got attached to you after some time. Because you've done nothing but help me and you showed me that I should be proud of who I am and I am now! And thinking about not being around you anymore is horrible because you accept me and you make me feel like I belong and I'm not sure how to say it but I-"

"_I love you._"

The final utterance is spoken by not one voice, but two. A long awaited admittance of emotions spoken at the same time, and when the two lock eyes again, Elsa immediately throws her arms around Pitch. The action catches him off guard, producing a grunt from him before he wraps his own appendages around the other, their embrace tightening, and only warmth and love could be found within it. After some time, Pitch lowers his arms but quickly snakes them around her frame once again as her grip only tightens as he attempted to pull away.

"Thank you," she whispers, "Thank you for everything."

A palm is brought up to stroke through her snowy tresses, and Pitch whispers back, "You needn't thank me. I could not bear to see you suffer."

Elsa withdraws then, taking her hands in his own, digits intertwining gently, "I don't suffer. Not anymore. You changed that." and she smiles.

The smile is returned and pallid grey lips move to press to her forehead delicately. Shortly after, the two return to the inner lair of his realm, and for the first time since his new life began, Pitch Black, the King of Nightmares falls asleep with his beloved Snow Queen in his arms, and they simply sleep as two in love.

Unbeknownst to all three, the Sandman weaves his sweet silk, and the same image in golden sand appears over Pitch and Elsa's heads, and the rest of the world sleeps without a single nightmare.


End file.
